


Recreate Us

by BryroseA



Series: I Fell In Love Again [3]
Category: Veronica Mars (Movie 2014), Veronica Mars (TV)
Genre: Canon - Movie, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-12
Updated: 2014-04-12
Packaged: 2018-01-19 03:15:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1453384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BryroseA/pseuds/BryroseA
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You came to take us<br/>All things go, all things go<br/>To recreate us<br/>All things grow, all things grow<br/>--- “Chicago,” Sufjan Stevens</p><p>Logan and Veronica during the car ride to end all car rides. A Logan POV scene from the movie. Movie spoilers, natch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Recreate Us

“I guess this is it then.” _It is done now_. _It was always done._

“We should take the long way home.”

Logan’s head whips around to follow Veronica as she walks around the back of the car. His emotions, somber with impending goodbye just a moment ago, are ping ponging around. _Did she…? Does that…?_

As he slides into the driver’s seat of his convertible, Logan fights valiantly to remain calm. _You’ve done so well this evening; focused on Ruby, friendly and non-demanding with Veronica; a total stable and adult win, don’t blow it now. Friends,_ he tells himself, firmly, _just old friends. Surely she didn’t mean…_

Logan downshifts and changes lanes. He’s aiming for the exit that will take them on a long loop over the Coronado Bridge before cutting back onto the freeway and home to Neptune. He glances over at Veronica, wondering if she’ll object to his very literal interpretation of “the long way” – she has to know where he’s heading. Veronica’s head is propped on her hand, arm resting on the side of the car, hair blowing lightly in the wind. She seems oblivious as she looks out across the passing city. Logan can feel himself relaxing as he settles into this unexpected treat. A solid hit of Veronica Mars with no distractions— _and she wanted it; she asked for it._ He can feel a grin tugging at his mouth.

Veronica seems content, as they drive, to sit there in silence taking in the view. Logan sneaks another look at her. _You’ve spent the whole night looking at her_. His eyes are caught by a strand of hair that is dancing around her lips. _So what? She’s been looking back. Hasn’t she?_ Veronica reaches up to swipe the hair out of the range of her lip gloss. _(“…my eyes adored you…”)_

As Logan guides the BMW into a turn, he thinks back over his evening. The date with Ruby was …surprisingly not horrible. Sure, Ruby is batshit, but in kind of an endearing way. Just another lost Neptune High kid, desperately grabbing hold of any obsession that made her life feel meaningful. He glances over at Veronica again. _I think I can relate._

He had tried gamely to focus on Ruby at the 09er—holding up his end of the bargain—but he’d never stopped tracking Veronica out of the corner of his eye. _( “…though I never laid a hand on you…”)_ Logan lets out a soft huff of almost laughter at the memory of Veronica, with a dead-eyed badass stare plastered on her face, shooting down one loser after another at the bar. _I thought that blonde douchebag was going to wet himself_. His “date” rolls through his mind like a series of alternating flip book images. Slow grooving awkwardly with Ruby—Veronica’s eyes boring into his back—Ruby attempting to suck seductively on an olive—Veronica fiddling with the strap of her purse—Ruby, face bright and expressive, expounding on her crackpot theory—Veronica’s gaze, brimming with wry amusement. _(“…so close, and yet so far away…”)_

 _Okay, so I’ll be the girl here—as if I could have avoided it—what does this all mean? Just a ride between friends? Something…more? _The thought is almost painful. _She’s leaving. She’s going back to New York._

The car approaches the entrance to the bridge. In the glow of the city lights, the water below glistens darkly. As they blow past the spot where his mother’s car was found abandoned, Veronica’s hand twitches toward him. She aborts the instinctive move to comfort, instead offering him a sad, half smile. _There is no one else in the world who knows about this spot._ He risks looking over at her again and catches her looking back. Their eyes hold for a beat before she turns back to the scenery. _This is not just friends; it can’t be._

As they continue across the long span of the bridge, Logan can feel Veronica’s gaze. He resists momentarily and then again sneaks a glance. She smiles briefly before reaching down to turn up the volume of the radio. The tune that has been dancing through his mind fights with the song now blasting from the speakers. (“… _’till we grew into the me and you who went our separate ways…”_ )

Logan has always had a habit of mentally soundtracking his life; his brain offering up bits and pieces of songs and lyrics appropriate to the situation. He’s forgotten how much being around Veronica increases that tendency. Most of his personal soundtrack tends to come from the music his mother played around the house and in the car when he was little. Lynn loved old music, sad and slow; 1940s crooners, classic Broadway soundtracks, Doo Wop, anything and everything Frankie Valli. To this day, Logan can’t hear “Silence is Golden” without feeling a clutch of mingled nausea and nostalgia in his gut.

The freeway stretches out in front of them, the traffic surprisingly light, and Logan feels a thrill bubble up in him. _(“…no matter how the years unwind…”)_ He weaves around a minivan that is inexplicably tootling along in the far left lane. The mood in the BMW is comfortable and Logan is the happiest he can remember feeling in forever. _Rein it in, Echolls._ _She’s going back to New York. You might never see her again_. He can’t seem to make the thoughts take root, though. _Right now, everything just seems so…possible._ The whole time Veronica has been back he has been slightly off balance; holding back so he doesn’t say anything moronic and ruin the friendly, non-demanding vibe he has been striving for. _I’ve been imitating someone stable for Veronica_ , he realizes, _but the sad part is that I’ve been imitating me. Me as I am now, or was, before Carrie’s… death. _His fingers drum lightly on the steering wheel. _Tonight is the first time since she’s been here that it felt like the real me again._

The car slides into the relatively straight and empty stretch of the 5 that runs through Camp Pendleton, leaving behind the intense glow of the city. _(“…my eyes adored you…”)_ Individual yellow lights gleam brightly against the midnight dark of desert sagebrush on one side of the road and the black glitter of the Pacific Ocean on the other. 

Logan looks down at the speedometer. He is going what he, a born and bred California driver, considers the true speed limit (ten miles over what is posted on the sign.) _Maybe I should slow down and savor this ending that feels strangely like a beginning._ Instead, he gives in to the oddly giddy feeling suffusing him and, with a private grin, he taps the gas pedal infinitesimally; pressing them both back lightly against the leather seats. The wind shifts and a costal breeze blows across the car, carrying the pleasant reek of seaweed, salt and fish. _Hope_ , he realizes, _that is what I am feeling_. He has hope that this is…that they could be starting something new. The feeling is overwhelming. He’s been obsessed with Veronica for years—he can admit it now—but he’s never had any hope. _Not since…_

One last time, he glances over at Veronica, her hair blowing in the wind, a sated expression on her face. She breathes in deeply and lets her head fall back against the seat as her eyes slide closed. As he gazes at her, Veronica whispers the first words either has spoken since they got into the car. “Logan …” the ghost of a smile hovers at the corners of her mouth, “… faster.”

_It’s not done. It has never been done._

**Author's Note:**

> All of the lyrics in Logan’s internal monologue are from “My Eyes Adored You” by Frankie Valli.


End file.
